Stray
by Loveforthestory
Summary: One day, Emma Bennett made the hardest decision she ever had to make. Now, twelve years later, Connor is on his way to Willoughby. With his dad. He is on his way to a new life, leaving another life behind him. Again. In Willoughby he meets Charlie.
1. Chapter 1 Emma

**So yes, I know..you know me from a lot of Charloe stories. But I got a question about this story and I wanted to write it. I have a soft spot for Connor and for what happened in his life. This is not an anti-Bass story, I could never do that, I love the character way too much for that. **

**This story starts with a day in Jasper, twelve years ago. It starts with Emma Bennett, and Bass and Miles.**

**It is a story about Connor and Charlie in the episodes between Mexico and the last episode. There will be Connor, there will be Charlie and there will be Charlie and Connor together...**

**What happened between them?**

**In this first chapter, we start with a look into the past, a look into what happened between Emma and Bass. It is an introduction to the rest of the story...**

**If you don't like reading about Connor and Charlie than...this story is not for you :) If you do want to read more... welcome! I will update soon if you want to, and work on my other story, Who do you really want too ( which is a Charloe story)! I will update there soon too!**

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_**Twelve years ago**_

Emma Bennett was standing in front of the kitchen window of her small home in Jasper. Her home was not far from the town square. She looked at the steps surrounding a statue that they just as their place to meet and she could almost see them there. Her thoughts were with two men. And then just with him. Only him.

It was like moments in time that have flew by since then were compressed and she could see them both. Younger, happier, filled with friendship for the other, filled with dreams for a future that was somewhere out there.

She thought about the man she should have married. And she thought the man she had lost her heart to. She thought about gentle brown eyes and intense sweet deep blue ones. She thought about Miles Matheson, the man she should have married. And she thought about Sebastian Monroe, _Bass,_ the men she ended up falling for.

It happened one night in a dark kitchen of her parent's home. Emma had felt Bass' eyes on her so many times, he had been on her mind too much. She had sat down on those steps and she been in Miles' arms, but Bass' eyes were there for her to meet when she looked up.

It was not fair to Miles, but one night, it had happened. She found herself alone in an empty kitchen. Bass had looked at her like she was the only one that mattered. Bass had kissed her. Bass had put her on the kitchen counter, when his hands had been flowing under her skirt. His fingers had moved over her smooth legs. Touching her, giving her something she had never felt. It had been sweet, and new, and exciting and awkward. And something that never happened again.

Not much later, she had said goodbye to both Miles and Bass when they went to Basic . Two young men had shoved their backs over their shoulders, when they went into the world outside their little town that had been their world for so long.

Emma had said goodbye to Miles, but had felt Bass' eyes on her, again. She had almost blushed. Later, she had cried herself to sleep in her room. Later she had found out that she had been pregnant. Pregnant with his child. Connor. Her parents had never allowed her to tell him, and she had gone through fight after fight with her parents, who were livid when they had found out.

So she carried her unborn child with her, kept him safe and give birth to him.

She had seen Bass one more time. It had been one the darkest days in town history, when his completely family was killed in a car crash.

He had returned from base together with Miles. She had been in the back of the small church, while she watched Bass with board shoulders hanging low. Tears in his eyes on the first bench, Miles sitting next to him. Both men did not speak. Bass was completely broken with grieve, staring straight ahead during warm speeches from people that remembered his family in their stories. Bass had stood there too, his voice broken and low and rough with loss and pain. Grieve in the line of his faces. He talked about his dad, his mom and his two little sisters, with so much love that Emma had cried silent tears when she had listened to Bass. Bass knew how to love. Be there for everyone, be there for Miles, for his dad, mom, his little sisters.

When the service ended and it was time to walk Bass' family to their final resting place, Bass stood up and almost went to his knees. It was Miles that embraced him for a long time. Bass' sobs had echoed through the church before he slowly had entangled himself from Miles and Benn Matheson had placed a hand on his shoulder for a moment.

Both Bass and Miles had held their shoulders under the heavy coffin of his dad and had walked out of the church with slow steps. She had stood there, on the cemetery, again in the back, watching how Bass tried to say goodbye. How he struggled. She had hugged him, quickly, when friends of his parents had stood close to them both. Bass had buried his nose in her hair. She wished she could have held in forever, taking in his scent that she had almost forgotten but remembered now. But Connor, he was at home, and she had no idea what to do, what to say. This was not the moment. Maybe that moment would never come. So she kissed him on his cheek, had whispered in his ear she loved him and went home.

She went back to gently place fresh flowers at their graves, long after Bass returned to base. She still did that, every week. It was the last thing she could do for the man that was out of her life now for years. She missed him.

Connor, her son and Bass' son, was now twelve years old and there was so much of him in their child, that is was painful sometimes to see. Connor reminded her of Bass. In so many ways. His wild curls, his intense gaze, the way he walked.

Bass. Or Sebastian Monroe. President to the Republic she currently lived in. She wondered what it would be like. To see him now. Would she see something of the man, of the boy, she once fell in love with?

He was ruling his Republic with a s steal grip. With growing violence. Things were turning around for the worse. Rebels had started to form larger groups, fighting both The Republic, but mostly the men in charge. General Matheson and General Monroe. Emma felt the change in the land around her. In the people. And her mother's heart told him, that Connor, the son of the president was not safe. Not now. Not anymore.

And that is what brought her to write a letter one day to Miles. They were still friends, although Bass had cut his ties with the town completely. It had been a hard letter to write. But she would keep her child safe, no matter what it took. Even if it meant sending him far away. From his home, his friends, from his school, from the only town and life he has ever known. Away from her.

This day had started like any other Monday. She woke up her son, made him breakfast. She drank a cup of tea from a mug that belonged to her mother once. It was old, and with little cracks in the ceramics. The tea was warm. Her fingers are around the mug, but the tea is still untouched. She put back a lock of golden red amber hair behind her ear

Today she had to do what no mother should do. She had prayed over and over again, asking for wisdom. Asking to a whole lot of darkness during long steepness night if this is indeed what is best for her child, for her son.

But she feared for him, what will happen to him. If he would come to take him away. Not that she could blame him, she kept him hidden from him. What will happen if Rebels would come to take Connor and use him against his father.

No one knew about Bass. She told Connor, as she did to everybody, that his father was somebody else.

She had packed some things for Connor. One back, some of his personal belonging and one picture of him and her, when he was a couple of weeks old, safely laying on her chest. She looked at the picture and pushed tears away. _Not now,_ she told herself.

She told Connor he would stay with his uncle Gary and aunt Susan for a while. Although she did not know how long that while would be. She watched the sadness and fear fall over his face, and he had gotten quiet, when she watched him struggle with the slow realisation that they would say goodbye soon.

A knock on the door. A man in front of her she had seen in so long. Her son now crying, trying to plead with his eyes to let him stay. Connor asking her what he did wrong. Miles who moved his head away, and was trying to keep his face in a straight line when Emma hugged Connor one more time, explaining to him it would not be forever, just for now. Telling him she loved him, she believed in him and they would see each other soon. That last lie almost drove her to her knees, but she knew there was no going back now.

It was Miles that cleared his throat, put his hand on Connor's shoulder and told the kid that they would have to go. Connor looked at her one more time, confused and so lost. Her hands cupped Connor's face, kissed him one more time and told him she loved him.

And that everything would be fine. She promised. That's what she told him. She promised.

She watched her son and Miles walk away from the small house.

'_Forgive me,'_ A whisper from her lips, when she closed her eyes, when a slow tear stared to move along her cheek. She looked at her son. At his dark brown curls, his eyes. Taking in every detail of her child until they are almost out of sight.

Connor looked back one more time and Emma did her best to smile. She tried to send him courage and love and ask him for forgiveness that she knew she will probably would never get. She stood there for a long time, when both Miles and her son, her only son, were out of sight. Emma did not move when she felt the emptiness off the house behind her pressing on her already. The taste of salty tears on her lips.

_Forgive me._

_**Twelve years later**_

Connor walked close to Miles Matheson. Many years had passed, but here he was. Again. His boots hitting the ground under him. The sun was burning in his neck and early this morning they had passed the Mexican border. Crossing it meant leaving Mexico behind, leaving the cartel behind. Leaving everything he had come to know behind.

Miles was walking ahead, while the blond psycho lady that introduced herself as Rachel Matheson, was walking closely. Connor felt Rachel's eyes on him, aimed with something cold that already rubbed Connor the wrong way.

He remembered Miles. He remembered the way he felt when he saw him for the first _and_ last time. He had remembered him when Miles Matheson stood in the local bar in front of him again all of sudden. That was now almost a week ago. And with him, a piece of his past walked in.

Connor remembered an old life, that was tucked far away in his memory. A town he used to call his home. People that had been his friends. His old school. Little bits of time that were echoing in his mind. He remembered her, his mom. A day where she had hugged him goodbye, told him he would have to away for while. He remembered her golden red hair, he remembered her smile. But she was slowly fading, and he wondered if he remembered her, or the version of her on the picture he carried with him in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Remembered her. Emma. His mom. The woman who gave him life and his name.

He remembered.

And the day she had promised him everything would be fine. She promised. He could still here the words he had been clinging on to from the day he had gotten on the road with Miles.

And now, so many years later, he left a life behind him again. Because with Miles, his dad had showed up. His dad that turned out to be THE Sebastian Monroe. Connor had laughed at him, when his dad had stood in front of him in that same bar. Telling him he was his dad that his dad had been a mechanic from East Lansing, when his dad had been telling him what Emma told him had been a lie. Telling him Emma, his mom, had been dead. Bass had promised him a Republic, a promise of another life.

And when the man he had seen as a father for years now, had betrayed him, he had no other choice than to go with his dad. Than to follow that promise.

To cling on to that promise. Again.

Bass walked a little bit behind his son. His son. His kid. He still has to get used to the whole damn idea. His kid here. His blood. His family. He had been watching him. He had tried to understand what it would be like, meeting the kid he had wanted to meet for so long now. When he finally stood before him, with Miles being his fucking amused self behind him, the dickhead, he had only being able to watch Connor. So much of Emma but when the kid spoke, so much of him too.

It was past noon and they were on their way back to Willoughby. Bass watched Rachel, her blue bitch eyes glued to his son for a while. If Rachel wanted to be a bitch to him, fine. But she would leave his kid the hell alone.

He moved a little faster and walked next to Connor.

'_You're okay kid?'_

Bass patted Connor's shoulder.

'_I'm fine,_' Connor grumbled.

'_Good,' _Bass said with a faint grin.

Connor nodded at his dad, and kept his eyes on the changing landscape in front of him. He could feel the sweat on his back.

They were on their way to a small town he had never heard of. Somewhere in the landscape before them, Willoughby was waiting for them.

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_**Hey everyone, thanks for reading! This chapter focussed on Emma's story, and the first part of Connor and Bass time together on the road, because I wanted to work on and write about that back story. This chapter is an introduction, a start to this story. We will meet Charlie and the rest in the next! Love from Love!**_


	2. Chapter 2 Meeting her, on the road

_**Thank you to the lovely person who asked about this story for letting me know you liked the start! Today, I have chapter two for you!**_

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He was not able to get any sleep. He was here, in some safe house. The ground was hard under him, this improvised bed so very different then his own. Mexico. It was all behind him. Leaving Nunez behind, leaving his life behind. And for what? His mind was going over the events of the past few days, little blurs coming back to him as he tried to get some sleep, there in the dark.

'_Let me reiterate. Screw both of you, with something pointy.'_

_He stood in between Miles and his dad, in some safe house just outside town. It was dark and the sun barely got it. Apparently when the bitch blonde asked them to jump, Miles asked how high._

'_I am now walking into some camp because some whack job blonde tells me to.' His dad did not disagree with him._

'_This is serious kid.' Bass told him._

_His dad had ordered him into the other room, closing the door. Leaving them with the two of them._

'_I agree with you, Rachel is a boatload of crazy.' He said in a whispered harsh tone. And then his dad talked on about how Miles really loved her, and if they wanted their republic back, that would be with Miles' on their side of the line. So at the end of the day, he had ended up going with his dad and Miles, to get that antidote they needed._

His dad, he was here. Alive. His dad was Sebastian Monroe. _The_ Sebastian Monroe showed up in Mexico, in the bar where he got his drinks, after Connor got a warning three out of towners had made their way to the bar.

He had looked into his eyes, as he stood there, in Nunez's office, between the man that raised him, took him of the streets and the man that should have been there.

The only home he had now gone, after his mom had sent him away and the man named Miles left him behind in a tiny nothing town in Mexico. That home had disappeared again when his aunt and uncle had died after sickness had swept the town almost clean. He had felt it again. The past. Like some stray dog, roaming the streets alone. He had a home, was slowly getting used to a new country, a new language he did not speak, boys his age looking down on him, only one friend, remembering his mom, in another country, back in Jasper. He slept in dark cold corners, in silent alleys, begged for food, always the begging. Waiting, crawling away at night to get through another night. Alone.

Anger, sharp anger. Anger for so much. But then his dad eyes had found his, in the middle of the large room of the Nunez estate and a storm of emotions had hit him like some torpedo. Nunez had talked about the fact that he has was Monroe's blood and when he met the eyes of the man that was his father , those word got meaning, how much he tried to not let them.

He had talked to his dad in his cell, and again, more of the man, of Sebastian Monroe, had pierced through. He already felt it, in so many ways, that he was looking into a mirror. Seeing so much of himself in that man, seeing so much of that man in himself. Anger, more anger. Anger that he let him in, that his life was pulled upside down again.

It had been Miles that knocked him on the head, it had been his dad that could have escaped, but he didn't. Giving back his gun, pointing it at himself, telling him he was the hero, moving back into his cell. And then, his dad, hanging there, ropes around his wrists, the whip in his hands as he let it crash on his dad's back. Showing his loyalty to Nunez, with his father's words in his mind.

It should have felt good, it should have been his revenge, it should have made him feel the opposite of what he felt with every sickening noise the whip made. He had felt it, and there was no way back.

His dad had locked eyes with him, and Connor had realised what his dad was doing.

Doing for him. It was the beginning of the end at his life in Mexico. Another life he left behind, another life that was not there for him to go back to.

_Do you know who worries about weakness? A_nother disappointment, another home that did not last.

He looked around him. It was dark in the safe house. Miles and the blonde were asleep in the corner. Charlie was asleep not far from them.

_The first time he saw her, was in the quarantine camp, and her hands had been working with speed, giving everyone sick and on the stretchers in the tent the antidote he had just gotten from Truman's office, when he went over there with his dad and Miles._

_Her body was fit, strong. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, a wide mouth. Even tired and her skin faintly covered in sweat, she looked good. _

'_So, you are Monroe's kid?'_

'_Really, you want do to a meet and greet now?' he had not believed his ears._

_Later, when they were back at the safe house, she had introduced herself as Charlie. Charlie. He knew that name, he had heard it on the road here. Miles had mentioned her, with a warning in his voice. The blonde eyes on him. She was her daughter, but there was no ice in her eyes, like Rachel. He could not yet figure her out, but he wanted to get to know her better._

'_Connor.' He held out his hand, and she had just smirked at him._

'_Charlie.' She looked at him, with exploration in her eyes. She did not shake his. Making him shrug his shoulders. Miles and Rachel walked past them. He could tell she was keeping her distance, but she was not unfriendly._

_She left not much later to hunt, leaving him behind, wanting to know what her story was._

'_So, what are you up to?' he had tried to make some small talk._

'_I am off hunting in a bit.' She crossed her arms before her chest._

_Connor was ready to snort, thinking she was joking until he saw the crossbow behind her, the knife on her belt around her waist. She was not joking._

'_Need some help there?' He was bluffing, he never ever hunted, well, not seriously. Not like she was about to. _

_She just grinned at him._

'_Nah, I'll be fine.' She had turned around, grabbed her stuff and had walked past him. On her way out, she had threw him some food and blanket. Then she walked into the twilight, the last light of the day falling on her hair._

She was asleep not far from him, one hand close to her side. He watched her. Rolled over in frustration. He had left Mexico and ended up here, in the middle of a typhus outbreak, in the middle of a war.

It had been a long week, his other life across the border dissolved. On the way here Connor got a nice little treat in the form of a blonde that rubbed him the wrong way since the start. Miles was bitching against his dad, Rachel was bitching and whining to his dad, about him. God, that woman Rachel was a piece of work. Throwing cold remark after cold remark with icy blue eyes at his dad.

It was getting old real fast and he knew his dad had given him the whole we need Miles speech but that woman. Maybe she was even worse than Miles, who was turning out not that bad from what he had seen.

He rolled over to his other side. His dad in front of the steps that were in front of the shutters that closed their safe house cellar, shotgun in his hand, asleep.

_She died asking for you. _His dad's words, again. She was dead. His mom, the mother he remembered, her soft hands, her sweet perfume, her kind smile. She was gone, and there had not even been time to grieve. Just like that, he knew she was not living her life anymore.

The only thing that was his, the one thing Connor carried with him through all those years and was with him now in the pocket of his jacket, was the old fading photograph of him and his mom. And there in the dark, the hollow grieve, the pain and old question what he did wrong for her to send him away, kept him company as an old friend that he knew now for so long. The friend that had been there on those long nights out there on the streets, when he was lonely and so alone. It was keeping him company silently on this night in Texas.

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_Fourteen days later_

They talked, he watched her flat belly under those tanks she wore so well. strong defined muscles under golden tanned skin. She was actually showing a bit more of herself of him, which was a surprise. A nice one, but still a surprise. They made a fire, the darkness of another night covering them, at their camping place close to New Vegas. Their wagon close and so was she, so was Charlie.

After Nunez, after Willoughby he was now in Vegas. New Vegas. The trip up here had been a week, and should have been a kind of men's trip, until Charlie had moved her body with ease into the wagon, throwing her bag in first. Her father had asked her _who invited her_, Charlie had snapped back at him _who says it is up to you_. He had been watching, paying attention. Although he knew by now where Charlie stood when it came to his dad, finding him a bastard, he was not sure about his dad. He had seen him around Rachel and Miles. The doctor. But with her, he was a bit different. He had not protested, and so, it had been a men's trip, plus Charlie.

She was good company. She hunted. Did not complain. Was strong. Knew how to take care of herself.

They had walked into Vegas, Charlie between him and his dad, on their way to a warlord, to see if they could negotiate their way towards more men, men they really needed. It did not take long for them to find her. Duncan Paige was a firing woman, and she knew his dad. Not Jimmy King, no, she had called him Sebastian. It did not take long for Charlie to have her gun in the woman's face, while he was still trying to catch up with what the hell was going on. She stood there, not moving an inch, and oh, she was one sight for sore eyes.

And now, his dad was out there, negotiating with that warlord, as Charlie and himself, were kind of kicked out that meeting. Charlie had raised an eyebrow at her dad as they exited the tent. Connor had seen the irritation in Charlie's eyes. They had walked around Vegas, wandering in the alley's between the tents and the night of buzzing activities that the city offered. Her shoulders relaxed, her frame next to him.

'I got to admit, I was wrong about you,' he said.

Charlie had not said anything, since she left Duncan Paige and Monroe behind. She felt pissed, pissed at him, for kicking them out like some kids with a stupid arrogant smirk. She was learning to work with Monroe, realising there was more than she thought he would be. Knowing, still realising he had saved her life in Pottsboro. But him treating her like some child now, that feeling, she got from so many others as well, had rubbed her the wrong way. She was back in Vegas, back in the city she once travelled to kill him. She would not kill him anymore, but the line between him and her was fine, and right now she was upset. She did not want to be. She would not allow herself to be. She paid attention to her surroundings, to the sounds and the tents.

And now she paid attention to Connor. He was tall beside her, walking next to her, although there was still some space between them. He was cute. He really was. Had a good smile, nice eyes. Could be kind of a puppy too, a spoiled puppy, but there was also something else.

'That so?' She raised one eyebrow at Connor.

'I thought you were just some chick. I mean, back home the girls put root beat on their lips, not pulling out guns.'

'Well, I'm not like the girls at home, am I?'

'No, you are definitely not,' Connor smiled at her.

She smiled, looking in front of her. Charlie noticed that he was paying attention, looking at her, seeing her. It felt kind of nice. He was kind of nice. Maybe.

'What?' he had wanted to know, realising, she was flirting back. His eyes went over her body. Went to her wide grin, her soft lips and her eyes again.

They had kept on walking, taking a left turn at another tent, leaving the city behind, on their way back to their wagon.

He was close to her, the light and sounds of the fire close.

_'Move over,'_ she smirked at him, as she found a place next to him. her eyes on the skin just above hsi shirt, his eyes on her.

They talked until all of a sudden they were not talking anymore.

Connor had been with girls. A lot of girl. But oh, he was right when he told Charlie she was not like most of the girls at home. Because she really wasn't. She was like a big wave, crashing over him. Taking him by surprise.

He had moved his hand over to her arm, when she had slowly moved towards him, a flirting smirk on her beautiful face.

He had tried before. And it had taken him a while to understand that she was playing him, mocking him, when he had tried to tell her the story where he had those guns on him when they had to get those meds. She had not bought it, and he was not used to that. Which only made his interest in her even bigger.

Charlie. The girl who had wanted to do a meet and greet in the middle of that patriot camp.

Charlie. The one he saw struggling with his dad every day. Who had to take a lot of mother crap from Rachel. Who had a strong bound with Miles.

Charlie. Strong, not like the girls at home, her gun aimed at the one warlord his dad and they came looking for in this tent city full of gambling, drinks and hookers.

Charlie, now the girl before him, her slender body and her weight against his hand as her hands disappeared under his jacket, her warm fingers devouring his back.

His eyes on her, his fact that he was cute. The fact that she loved his touch, her body waking up, needing this, needing to let go, give in, just for a while. Something else than bloodshed and fighting and arguing with her mom and the betrayal of her grandpa.

He was cute, his touch sweet. Maybe too sweet for now, but that is way she went all in, picking up the speed and intensity. She was not wasting any time.

His interest in her grew, but now, when she was drawing him in, and she did not leave him exactly any choice, he did what he really needed to do.

Which was kiss her back, draw her closer. Both of his hands going through her hair, then a hand on her back, pressing him further against her. He moved over her, his hands on her tank, as she started on his shirt. They explored each other, his fingers finding her shoulder, her arm, Her hips, her skin against his, her fingers going over his arms. She took him with her to the ground and he decided to give in, give in to Charlie. He moved over her, kissing her, kissing all of her. His fingers toucing that one intimate spot. Wanting to give her pleasure, showing her what he could do to her. Their pants moved to the ground, releasing each other from fabric until it was just her, just him.

Charlie let out a whispered moan, when she felt how hard he was, smirked when he whispered something in Spanish in her ear, deciding to silence him with a deep kiss.

And when her legs moved around his waist, it was the last push for him to move inside of her, all the way, leaving him with no other possibility of letting out a curse and groan as he watched her face change.

Charlie surprised him again, with her fire and her eagerness.

Connor felt so good, inside of her, his body all over hers. She grabbed his ass to encourage him. She did not need slow or soft, she needed fast and rough. he was cute, but she did not needed cute, she needed release, holding on to his shoulders, asking him with her intensity to give her more, to go faster, to move with her with more speed.

And then she moved herself, herself over him, and he felt the ground under him as she straddled him. her hands on him. Her hair was falling over his face, and he brushed it away as his mouth found hers again. He eagerly kissed her this time, as he moved back completely inside of her. Charlie pushed him away, smiled that wide smile of hers at him and started to move. In slow waves she started to ride him, sweat dripping slowly from whatever was happening here, as her breathing accelerated with his.

She watched Connor under him, his deep eyes, only on her, as she tried, needed that release.

She was so warm and he was losing himself in her, with every time he moved inside of her.

She came first when he hit that right spot inside of her. It made her come hard, with one deep moan which shot right through him. God, this girl was hot. He felt how he was about to come too, but he would not risk getting her and them both into trouble this night, so at the last moment, he broke free of her, coming with force too.

Charlie moved away from him, a grin on her face, her hair splayed out around her head, on the blanket they were using for some comfort. She landed just next to him, her side an arm covering his arm as he tried to catch his breath. Shit, this was good. Her weight against his body.

'Do did not like it?' she asked, the light of the face hitting her face. Brining out her soft lips. Charlie saw something fall over his face, as they were slowly able to breathe again.

'Oh I liked it.' He really did, 'but you know who my dad is, are you not afraid things will get weird now?'

'I am not going to apologize, Connor. Life is short, even shorter for us.' He watched the temperature drop in her voice, the tone getting colder. Sharper.

She felt how something dropped inside of her. It was time that somebody told him the truth. She had no idea what Miles or Monroe had told him, but she knew where they were standing, and it was not good.

He listened to her, telling him he just joined the losing team. That it would all end so badly for them all.

'Or you could try and hope a little hope?' His was taking back by her dark mood, this new darker side of her.

'I'd rather like to be realistic.' Hope, she thought to herself, it was something from a long time ago, when she had been eager to explore the world, to see what is out there. She ahd told Jason on their way to Chicago that they could not all be monster, could not all be bad. But truth was, she knew the truth now. It was rough and dark. The word hope touched something in her, the way Connor was looking at her, touched something in her that should not be awoken. It couldn't. That was then, this was now. The real now.

He swallowed with difficulty, hearing her words. It was hard hearing something so sharp and edgy coming out of her mouth, when she laid down next to him, looking so beautiful while the colours of the fire were touching her face. Making her eyes burn.

It was the first time he watched that part of her, and it was like a dull and at the same time dark punch.

_I'd rather be realistic._

They reached home, as he watched how Charlie met his deep eyes.

It would not be long, until her words cut right through him, as Charlie's eyes would find his again in pale morning light, strapped with her wrist and feet on a wagon, her eyes filled with worry and regret as her eyes found his.

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_**Thank you very much for reading this second chapter, I really appreciate it! As you can see, this chapter will be from Connor's point of view. I wanted to explore that meeting with his new life, his old life, more of his life there and what is going on right there and then. And yes, a little more story about Vegas, of course. I will work on chapter three soon. Love from Love**_


	3. Chapter 3 High and low

**_Chapter three_**

**_New Vegas, Gould's terrain_**

The pale morning light brought a pale Vegas grey morning. The cold seeping through his shirt, through his boots. The mist outside like the cage around him and his dad.

No colours stood out.

It had been a long night. They had come up with a plan to get the stones Duncan wanted, the contact his dad had here in Vegas, for the men they needed in their fight. Their plan, which included robbing the casino, had gone fine, until it hadn't and Bass and him had gotten caught and thrown in a cage by Gould. Charlie had managed to get awy, and Connor went back to her, his mind on where the hell she could be.

After his dad gave him a speech after finding them close to the fire, about what Rachel and Miles would think, something Connor did not gave a damn about, they had talked strategy. His father biting something at Charlie for not getting herself killed, or at least wait until she was back on Miles' watch. They had separated after hadn't seen Charlie since then.

Gould had, after their capture, told him about his sickening plans with glee in his eyes, a dog fight until either his dad, or himself would drop. Connor could not believe his ears. Had told his dad that he rather dropped on his feet, than in that sickening fight before that psycho.

Bass had listened to Connor, as rage and despair flooded through him. He had pushed Connor into the fence of the cage, needing, willing, wanting, his kid to listen. They would fight, and Connor would walk away. He had to, he could not bear knowing his child wouldn't. There was no other option. His own instinct to protect what was his strongly kicking in.

When his dad had told him he would have to teach him how to kill him, Connor had asked himself in what kind of mad hell they had ended up in now. He could not believe he would lose his dad, now he finally had found his way back to him. And that he would be the one landing that blow. He once had inflicted pain on his dad, and just the tought of having to do it all over again, almost broke Connor. The night had stretched out in endless hours of fighting, training. His dad telling to look at his shoulders when positioning him, his dad confiding in him about his blind spot. Connor listened, not wanting to listen.

And then, when Connor was done with the training, done with this piss idea, his dad had told him he should want to. Kill him.

_'I got your mom killed. Dragged her into the line of fire. She died in my arms.' _

Images of his mom, shot, there at hoe, filled his mind, tears filled Connor's eyes. A rage ignited in him, for what he lost, for his dad's actions as he let the rage out, pushing his father back.

Bass needed Connor to know the truth, he also needed his son to _wan_t to fight. So he talked about a moment, a heartbreaking brining him down to his fucking knees moment. Igniting the rage in Connor Bass knew so well.

When morning came, Connor against the fence, Bass had started to talk. Knowing this was the final moment he could give his son something, tell him, give him something to live his life with.

Told him how he ended up in front of the pack, killing and crawling, it had not meant one thing.

Have kids, don't be alone. Find a girl, not her, not Charlie.

Because he needed his kid to move away from all of this.

But maybe not because all of that. He had spent so much time with Charlie, the one person that found his ass worth saving, that the thought of his kid with her, brought out a weird jealousy.

Get the republic back. Make it mean something.

And finally he told Connor, he loved Emma. He really did. She saw the best in him. Tears in his eyes, his emotions raw, when his kid finally looked at him as he knew it was not much he could give his kid.

'It's not much.' Connor told him rawly. Telling him it wasn't worth much, but that it meant something. Connor had never seen his dad like this.

Food was shoved in their cage.

'Don't be stupid, you need your energy.'

Connor had looked at him, as he slowly started to eat as no colours stood out around him.

* * *

**_Cage near Gould's fighting tent, New Vegas_**

No colours, until her, her colour stood out through the mist.

Not much later, they both stood, waited, for what was about to come. His father leaned into the fence, looking like hell.

A wagon approached.

_I'd rather be realistic_. Charlie. He heard her words again as he watched her, and he could see grey misty tears in her eyes, she never ever showed. She was on the back of a wagon, hands and legs tied to it, as she looked at him with regret. He stood there, as his dad leaned into the fence, as she was rolled by, like some animal. She looked so incredibly lost and her eyes filled with regret, telling him silently she had failed, and it broke Connor to see her like that, when he held her with his eyes.

The cold sweat on his skin, his dark curled hair plastered to his forehead because of the rain, as he realised the truth in her words. He watched her blond hair fall over her shoulders, and then, she was out of sight.

Leaving him, his dad, the cage and the fight before them. Knowing, he would lose somebody all over again in a fight he did not even wanted to fight.

* * *

**_Fighting tent, New Vegas_**

_It will mean something. People will remember your name._

He had walked into the tent. Next to his dad. Sharp knives were thrown in with them as their final companions.

He had looked at his dad, both men standing so close.

One last time, Bass told himself. Taking the first hit, strike, so his son did not have to.

The fight was brutal, endless, until they both knew, he could see it in his father's eyes that it would be over soon.

Connor looked at his dad, wanting, promising he would do what his dad asked him too before the fight.

_'__It will mean something. People will remember your name.'_

Bass had to clench his jaws at his sons words. he had found him, knew him. His son, his blood. His own would spill soon.

The tent moved into chaos as Bass looked around him. He had spotted Duncan, knowing she would maybe try something. But as the minutes moved on, he had realised she wouldn't. He had looked at his kid, taking him all in, to remember, to feel, when whatever would be next was not far away. His kid's promise to make it mean something, people remembering his name, him, carved into his soul.

And then he saw her. Charlie. He stood behind Connor as she stood there,

'Move back,' she yelled in the dazzling chaos.

Connor watched her narrow her eyes.

Her gun firing at the lock.

And then, they were free. To go, to get out of this hell. Charlie started running. Bass could not believe that he would walk the fuck out of here. Looking at his kid, his chest heavy with sweat.

He was right behind Connor when they made it out of the tent, into the fresh air.

* * *

**_Right outside New Vegas, 8 pm_**

'Hey, wait up.' Connor asked.

Charlie heard him, but she couldn't. The smell of the trailer and the horrible asshole that had been all over her, interfering with per personal space and boundaries way too close. Bass had looked at her, asking her about what happened. She just gave him the big lines.

The last time she had seen Connor was when Gould had strapped her on that wagon, and she had to watch Connor in that cage, regret that she had failed to get them out. Her eyes had followed him, with the fence between them, his eyes with defeat for her.

She kept on walking.

'Charlie,' his voice was lower, slower, smoother. She heard the concern in there.

Connor had no idea what to do, what she would allow. But he knew she was not telling the whole story, he knew what she had been wearing, a flmisy nothing dress. He knew the concern in his dad's voice when he told him Gould was a son of bitch who treated woman like dirt. How much his dad had tried to keep and play it cool, he had not succeeded keeping the concern for Charlie out of his voice, as much as he had tried.

Charlie splashed some water in her face. Vegas was behind them, and they were moving back. With men. Men they came here for, mercenaries Bass bargained for , but did not get. Because Duncan, in the end, came through. She just did it a little bit different than they had thought. Giving the men to Charlie. Leaving Bass stunned, shocked, and her with the biggest bad ass smile on her face.

Connor looked at her, remembering for a moment who his dad looked at how bad ass Charlie was being. Not some chick. No hell, she really wasn't. He had hidden his grin behind his hand, as Charlie had stomped away with a gorgeous smile, with the men, away from his dad. If she had looked a little bit longer to him she would have seen a little light of respect in his dad eyes, as he had followed her with his eyes before he had looked before him for a second, before it was back to shock of course.

They had stopped and set up camp for the night, and Charlie was washing some of the dirt of the day of her face.

He slowly touched her shoulder, his strong fingers gentle on her skin, keeping space between them, careful not to push her, as he moved to her.

'I,' Charlie stopped for a moment, not jerking away from his touch as he had expected. 'I just want to leave this behind us. You are all right, he is all right. Let's just get out of here.'

She felt Connor's touch and although his warmth was steady and his touch firm and gentle without being too much, she could not feel his hand any longer.

She sounded firm, but also tired as she nodded at him, and he looked at her, seeing she was not all right. But he also knew, pushing her was not going to work, he knew that about her in the little time he had with her since he came back. So they stood there, as he gave her space, walked away from her and landed on a log near a fire, settling down for the night.

* * *

**_6 days later, _****Back in Willoughby. Safe house near the river.**

'Let me help you with that.' Connor smirked at her.

'Sure,' Charlie grinned back. Giving him the other bucket. They needed water, and he followed her to the small well they could get it from. He was glad some of the bruises she had ended up with in Vegas were healing.

They followed a beaten path into the grass near the river.

They had walked for four days straight, days in the burning sun. Nightmares where he was back in that tent again, looking at his father, ready to do what he couldn't do, but had to do. He had promised his dad he would. He would wake up in sweat, with the Texan night air around him, soothing his skin, hoping day light would come, and cast some of the worst away. His dad had been an ass, talking against Charlie how it was interesting she choose a Monroe. He could not help himself. Connor heard it, but also knew Charlie could take care of herself.

Days on sandy roads and maybe a moment where he would fall asleep with her in reach, her sleeping form next to him on her sleeping roll as he struggled himself through nights of nightmares.

Since that moment in Vegas, he had not been able to do what he wanted to do. Which was touch that smooth skin of hers, kiss her, play with her hair and have her close. On the way over here, there had been her men,things to do, miles to walk, and no time.

Connor moved over to her, his lips going playfully for her neck. She tasted like her, with sweet sweat on it.

'Connor, water.' She smirked at him., pointing to the buckets.

'Forget about that.' He whispered in her ear with a grin.

She turned her head to meet his eyes, her eyebrow raised. He kissed her neck as he felt how she moved into him. He played with her ear as she greedily kissed him, and their tongues met for a flirting dance.

Charlie felt the sun on her skin, as Connor stood tall behind her. He had nice hands, a good touch and smooth lips. That were now trailing over her neck and jaw. Their lips met, as she tilted her head to give him more access and he pressed against her, pressed against her back. Fingers roamed gently under her tank as fingertips played with the skin just under the line of her breasts and bra, as she gave in for a moment and he playfully kissed her nose.

Connor enjoyed the feel of her hips, when she pressed a kiss on his lips one more time, before she pushed him away.

He smiled at her, as she grinned back.

'Water,' She said determined.

'Water.' He nodded back, getting to work, as they talked lightly and he watched her smile which lit up her face.

When they walked back over the path near the river, he could see her grandfather and Rachel in the distance. Charlie was open, talking with him and he enjoyed the flirting. Just like she did when he stood on the steal bridge earlier, and she was out scouting for wood, as he pressed a light air kiss her way.

He could not care less who watched. Maybe her mom treated her like some precious four year old, she was not like some of the woman he knew from the home he once had. She was strong, capable, fierce and with striking lines in her face, cute nose and smooth jaws with bright blue eyes.

But she was also kind, strong willed and loyal. She could have walked away. With the history she had with his dad, the whole world would understand. But this girl, she fought with the people that were her group. And now that included his dad, she would not just let him hang. She just wouldn't.

**_Safe house near the river_**

They had walked into camp, but also back into another endless day. It had started with his dad and Miles, discussing what to do next near the river, as both men found two prisoners who were spying on them from a patriot camp and brought them back. Miles had told him and Charlie to take care of them, as they did. They had sat down together on steal steps, as he watched how Gene and psycho blonde walked into the run down building before them, untied them and moved them out of their securing place. It did not take long for his dad and Miles making their way over to them, as he got up with Charlie from their place. He was getting to know this group slowly, and he knew a couple of things.

Psycho blonde played the whole soothing we can't do this thing. Bashing her eyelashes to Miles, telling him he was not Monroe, his dad standing there, Connor not missing the hurt and frustrated look in his dad eyes.

Gene wanted to take their prisoners home, forgetting that they were not people from town, they were weapons now.

His dad slowly losing his shit over the condescending tone from Gene and the psycho blonde duo as he had grabbed Gene by his shirt. Watching intense rage seething from his dad.

Charlie who knew they had to do this, following Miles' command, not protesting when they had tied them up. Charlie being pissed at his dad for ripping the old man apart, but not afraid to step up to him. His dad did not lash out to her.

In the end, Miles, Rachel, gene and the two prisoners left, as his dad looked at Miles, in rage They were back within the hour, minus one prisoner and a Miles on edge. They found the tattoo in the eyelid of the cadet, numbers engraved in skin there. And just as they were discussing what to do next, there had been a first explosion. It had been dark, shots echoing through the air. He covered Charlie as she moved over the terrain, between her men, his dad and Miles. The fight was intense, as he watched his dad with Tom Neville on a steal bridge, and he looked eyes with him. They had already lost one of Charlie's men.

Bass knew Tom Neville would be coming. Miles had told him he would come for his ass, since the patriots had his fucking wife. And if it was between his and his wife, than screw the bitch. He got another hit from Tom in the face, stumbling against the steel from the bridge, watching Connor midfight with Jason Neville. It enraged him, seeing his kid there, in danger. He knocked Tom of his feet, used him as a human shield and got to Connor, kicking Jason Neville to the ground as he grabbed his kid, grabbed him and pushing him to keep on going, with Charlie right before them, as Miles gave them cover.

**_New safe house, 22 miles from the river_**

Although Charlie never took any of his bullshit, she was never that person who was not willing to show him something, teach him something new. By observing her he learned, showing him new moves.

They had found a new safe house, after their encounter with Neville and Truman. He had watched Charlie, as some guy stood before her all of sudden, rounding in front of a abandoned van. He knew her, his name rolling of the asshole's lips. Charlie had not hesitated and hit him unconscious, but it had not prevented the guy for coming for his ass. His dad had eventually gotten him out of trouble.

Although no one knew how long they could stay there. Everybody was on edge, as he watched his dad bud heads with Miles. The psycho never far behind to throw some gasoline on the fire. Charlie had taken a room upstairs, and he had just done some training with her. Although with Charlie, training was maybe not the right word, it was maybe more her enjoying kicking his ass.

And now, as sunset covered their safe house in shadows, he walked up the stairs. He found her there. Next to her bed, grabbing her pack from on top of it, looking for something.

'Don't move,' he said, his voice a warm rasp.

Charlie smirked at him, her blue's lighting up at him in an amused way. His deep eyes, his dark curls, his voice. His tall frame, large hands, smooth fingers. Maybe she could need some of that now, getting rid of that pumped up adrenaline. And he kind of looked good in those black jeans, heavy boots and that shirt that followed the lines of his shoulders so well. Connor moved to her.

He moved towards her, as he closed the door behind them. He kissed her, testing the waters. She nipped back at his lips. His fingertips played with her top. He kissed a bruise on her belly, just under her right breasts. Her hands going through his hair. A soft pant escaping her lips.

Charlie arched herself to him, to the wall. Connor turned them both. Connor's large hands were on the right spots. One on her lower back as his nose nuzzled her neck, the other on her left shoulder blade. Their kiss was intense and salty as Charlie felt him him hard under her. She tilted her hips towards him.

Connor was throbbing. She looked so beautiful, but her intensity fired up his need even more. His lips at her neck, he kept on kissing her, slowly playing with her pants. He moved through her button, gliding fingers into her panties, playing with her folds, as he rubbed her, slowly, intensely.

'Come for me cara,' he whispered gently in her ear before she came undone.

When Charlie's hand moved to where he needed her so badly , he had to stop.

She moved around him, moving over him, playing with his tip.

He moved her leg as he pressed her genlty into the wall, demanding access she gave him. And with one thrust, he was inside of her as she closed her eyes and tilted her head backwards, giving hom more acces to her beautiful neck as his lips covered her skin.

* * *

**_4 A.M Safe house_**

_You know who obsesses about weakness?_

_Weak people_. His own voice an echo through the Texan air, as he could still feel the blade around his throat that Nunez put there, giving the command to one of his man to get rid of him. Another nightmare. Nunez betraying him, realising his dad had been right, how he could cast him out, if Connor would move away from his loyatly. He was back in Mexico, back at the moment where he had a wip in his hands, and he had to use it on his dad. He hoped for something to breake free, to resolve, but with every movement of his hand and every strangled cry of huffed air from his dad, up there, he had broken away from Nunez, causing more and more pressure to stop, to chose for his dad.

What he did in Mexico, who he was, all of it, collided in that nightmare as he woke up. Sweat, heartbeat racing.

He sat up, one hand on a raised knee, as he tried to get his breathing under control. Mexico. Nunez. It lay behind him, and he joined a man, a father he never knew, who fought for him from the first second, even when Connor told him to crawl back under the rock he came from.

He shook his head. The house around them was silent, as he sat down on the ground, only a bedroll between him and the hard wooden floor he shared with Charlie.

'You all right?' Charlie's voice was close in the dark. She had watched him struggle, watched a nightmare unfolding. They all had them, they all plagued them in the dark.

He did not look at her, closed his eyes, too ashamed, she had heard him, maybe more ashamed of what he was dreaming about.

'Yeah.' He nodded in the dark, his voice low and sratchy. 'I'm fine.'

She did not talk again, but he could feel her close, next to him, her hand not far away from his. He let out a sigh in frustration as he tried to move out the images. Tried, but failed as morning was still far away.

It was Charlie that got closer to him. When he woke up, she had already gotten up.

* * *

**_One week later, doing a check on the perimeter of their camp close to Willoughby. _**

'So, are you thinking matching thrones, because I think that would be adorable.'

Charlie looked at him, with a mocking grin that ignited something inside of him.

'You have no idea where I came from, or where I have been. Ever think I am right where I need to be?'

Emma, his mom, in that doorway one last time, home.

Nunzet betraying him.

His dad coming from him.

A promise of his bloodbound, of a Republic.

His dad telling him, begging him, to take back the Republic in Vegas, making it mean something.

His promise to his dad t take it all back. To finally find his place, together with his family, the man that should have been in his life all this time.

The Republic was a promise, from his dad to him, but aslo what he had promised his dad to get back for him in Vegas, a secure place for him, a place to stop the endless stray, to be something, to finally mean something, to ground him in the dark, find his place.

She looked at him. Ever since she found out about what he and his dad wanted to bring back, things had gone downhill. The memory of her, all around him, in that room upstairs a safe house feeling a world away, still there, but vanishing now.

Miles and Gene had gone into town, getting more men, in a fight that stretched out. Leaving him, Charlie, his dad and Rachel with Charlie's men behind. They were doing a check on the perimeter on their camp when she had started talking, mocking in her words as Connor's thought were filled by that promise, his need to have something for himself, that he could share with his dad, something to build._Somebody to be_. Something that would last this time.

He had his fair of broken promises, he could not take another one.

But he had no idea how he could ever make her understand. He did not even understand.

His eyes crashed into hers, as Charlie saw something change in his eyes. She was pissed. She had believed that Connor would be fighting for family, just like her, but she was afraid he would slip in hunger and need for control. Maybe he was doing that right now.

She stood before Connor, as he watched her. She was about to say something, when something caught her attention in the background on the horizon, as yellow, gold and orange flames bejeweld the dark sky.

**_Four days later, road outside Austin_**

The fires on the horizon lead to the group of Duncan's men. Without her, because the kaki's got to her first. He watched the loss on his dad's face, as Charlie watched the ground with a sigh, knowing what he lost too.

The group of Duncan's men lead to his dad not having to wait for Miles, or listening to Rachel anymore as they moved out.

He lead the men, woman, himself and Charlie into battle, as they raided the boot camp his dad had wanted to raid all along.

That raid led to victory. New intel. Cadets moving to Austin to kill their president. Miles and his dad discussing how theyr were four days ahead on them on the road, as Miles called out Scanlon on his bullshit, asking him if he tought this was a game. It would all be over if they would shot the president, framing Cali, a war ahead, the patriots taking everything that would be left.

Jason Neville, showed up again. When he did a round with shotgun in hand, Sixpack had grabbed him, moved him into camp as his way in the door, his eyes on Charlie as he informed them about wanting to get with their group for revenge, showing them his tattoo in his eyelid, he got from the patriots. His eyes on Charlie as dark jeously moved through Connor. He knew something was going there, something from the past.

They moved to Austin, Miles, his dad, sixpack, Charlie and him. They came back without sixpack but with a shattered Charlie, empty, hollow. He had watched her, as Miles dragged her along. Lost, blooded, not even having the strength or will to look directly at him.

* * *

A long chapter, and more development between all of the, between Connor and Charlie and in the story. Thanks for reading! One more chapter to go!


	4. Chapter 4 A place around a fire

**_Three days after Austin, Willoughby_**

Connor knew he was being a jerk to Charlie. He knew. Even after what she did for him, for his dad in Vegas, risking her own life to get them both out with fierce loyalty to their little group there. But he couldn't. Something was twisting inside of him, dark jealousy that made him want to distance himself from everyone, as old nightmares and flashbacks returned to him.

His mom that had let him go, given him away to Miles and a new life.

Nunez who had seen him like a son, promised him a life, a future, a line in his cartel, in his life, that would draw the lines of his life.

His dad, who came, told the truth, asked him, begged him to make a life in Vegas, right before they both thought he would die. He had made him promise to get the Republic back, to give it all some meaning. Only the past months, his dad, and his republic felt further than ever and Connor was started to think, doubt, why his dad ever made him promise that.

Miles. Rachel. Icy looks, barely being tolerated.

It was like the strong stubborn dark jealousy made him unable to move.

So when Miles went missing, and his dad,Rachel and Charlie moved out, he had not joined them. He couldn't.

Miles had been missing for two days now, and he had seen the worry all over her face. He had seen it in her face when she left camp with his dad and her mother right after sunset.

'Go find your Boyfriend.' Those were the words he had thrown in his father's face, fired by jealousy of the bound between his dad and Miles that was there, so effortlessly, even during time.

And then there was Charlie. Since she knew about him wanting that Republic, she had distanced herself from him. He was not sure about how she felt anymore, but he started to really like her in this mess. She had skills, she knew how to take care of herself. But after Austin, after Miles turned that corner while dragging her along, he had seen a part of her he never saw before.

Hollow.

Guilt.

The ride back was silent, long as Charlie's stillness pressed on all of them

Her eyes facing the ground, her tank soaked with blood, six-pack nowhere to be seen.

He had not talked to her since then, simply because he did not know what to say to her, what on earth could he say, as she had curled up, walked in silence with a painful grim expression on her face which had normally had such outstanding features'. He had watched her every now and then, after they had been walking back to camp when Miles created a diversion when they ran into those rangers on their way back, bonoculairs in his hand as he had spotted trouble coming their way. But she had closed of, as they kept on going, reaching the camp, with her feet behind him and his dad.

It had been hours before sunset on the second day when he saw her walk back into camp. Alone. He moved away from the wall he had been meaninglessly leaning against, and when she got closer he was not sure if he saw panic or relieve in her eyes. She looked pale, unfocussed. She had been crying When her eyes focussed on him, he felt a cold wave going through him.

She kept on walking into the building behind her.

He looked with sharp lines in his face into the fire, as he realised he could not just leave her there on her own. Something was off, was wrong. Panic and that look in her eyes, ate at him.

He walked into the abandoned structure, the rooms empty and cold. Finding her in the corner, near old cabinets, almost ready to move out again.

'Charlie, I'm sorry, but I don't think you are going to find him. Whatver happened to him, if he could have gotten out, Miles would have found a way.'

'You see this.' Charlie moved some hair out of her face. He looked at the bruised skin on her forehead. 'That is from Neville's gun shoved in my face.'

Connor swallowed something away, Charlie let out a bitter smile before she talked on, her shocking story coming to live before his eyes.

'And just as he was about to pull the trigger, my whole body started to scream, I don't want to die.' She fought back tears, that were now pooling in her eyes. Remembering, going through it again, now she was standing with Connor in this empty room. Her face cold with the water she just splashed in her face.

'But he pulled that trigger, nowhere for me to go, and it was empty.' She cried, focussing on her words as Connor's eyes filled with tears too.

She did not know why she kept on talking. But he was here. He was. Connor, who was now understanding, listening, there.

Her mother wasn't. Miles wasn't. Nobody else seemed to have time for her walked up to talk to her, finding her. No one but him. Connor's eyes on her, as the start of tears were in his eyes, that were in her own.

'I don't think I deserve it, but somehow I get to know what tomorrow looks like. And no matter what it looks like, Miles is there.'

He looked at her, while she looked at him. She moved her hands, the cloth in there drying some water and sweat from her heated skin as she let the tears move back. Her hands shaking barely visible, on the table before her.

Connor had observed and had asked himself who was noticing her.

He walked over to her, pressing her against him, as his arms circled around her. She fought him, before she gave in. His hands always seemed to feel so strong on her back, his tall frame in front of her. She felt him, Connor. here. His jaws somewhere pressed against her head. Connor felt her smaller body against his, her dark blonde curls under his arms. Connor wanted to move, wanted to reach out more, hold her longer, stand still with her there, but she would not let him. he watched her turn, turn away from him, as he watched her walk out of the room.

**_Camp_**

Nightfall came, as his dad ate something around a fire. Rachel sat by her dad and Charlie was nowhere to be seen. He might have an idea. He shook his head, putting his own plate on the ground. He had to check on her, knowing what she had been through. he had just told his dad, who had looked shocked as well.

He found her in the same room as he had found her earlier. But this time, not in front of a bucket, splashing water in her face, and talking about that desperate moment. She was slouched down,a gainst the wall. His boots hit the ground as he closed the distance. Her shoulders were moving with her tears.

Charlie had fought the tears back. But here they were, another day to an end, no Miles. Day three was in sight, and her world felt so empty without him. Everybody was so busy, caught up in their own fears. Her mom. Bass. She understood, but at the same time she felt invisible, like she was screaming in a room filled with pain without anyone to notice her.

When she lost the battle she needed isolation, not wanting vanybody in, the cold room with harsh walls perfect for her sorrow and tears she did not want anybody else to see.

She knew it was Connor, but she could not look up. Her face hurt, bruises, tears. She was cold. Tired.

Connor looked at her, making a decision. Without talking, he sat down next to her, his back against the wall as Charlie felt so cold, even from where he was sitting. He did not speak, she did not speak. Silent tears were now on her cheeks. And then he slowly moved an arm around her.

Charlie felt the tall frame of Connor next to her. His arm moving around her, over her shoulders and back. He felt warm, and steady. She cried, cried for what she had lost and was about to lose. She had been so strong for so long, but right now, she had reached the end of that road.

Connor still did not talk, as he felt how Charlie slowly shifted, without even thinking about it. Her face ended up close in the hollow at his shoulder as he moved one arm and hand over her knee. Sitting there, with her, feeling her endless desperate pain, there somwhere in Texas in an old abandoned factory, against a cold wall.

**_5 days later, camp outside Willoughby_**

Eventually, they did find Miles, although barely alive. His father had been a worried out of his damn mind, with an intensity in his eyes, starin at the Rachel and Gene took care of him.

And Charlie, Connor watched her. He was sure she was thinner, paler, harder. He hated to see her change. She was constantly on her feet. Hunting, taking care of everybody else, but herself. Things between them were weird. They were not what they had been right after Vegas, but she did not turn him away completely. Connor pushed himself up from where he had been sitting, cleaning some of the weapons as she came into sight. His dad's eyes on him and then on Charlie.

'Hey, can we talk?' he asked her, as she looked at him. She looked at him. Not speaking.

'You all right?' he simply said, as Charlie looked up at him now.

'Connor, I am fine,' she shook her head, pushing her face into a indifferent one, not wanting to listen to him. She could not listen to somebody asking her if she was all right. Not after what she did in Austin. It was too much, it was like a part of her screamed she did not deserve that, from anyone anymore.

'You are not okay Charlie.' Connor said to her, force in his voice.

'I have to go, check up on Miles.'

He watched her sway on her feet for a moment as she regained her balance. Always, she was always taking care of everybody else,even after everything that had happened. Miles busy, her mom busy with Miles. Her grandpa busy. What about her. She was pale, hardly ate anything.

'And who is taking care of you?' Connor almost yelled at her.

Charlie turned around abruptly.

'Nobody. Because I don't need somebody to take care of me. I can take care of myself.'

'You don't mean that. Everybody needs somebody sometimes. Even you.' His words were gentler now, as a part of his heart broke for her, as her eyes were still piercing in his.

Miles had walked towards them, just as Rachel as they were drawing a crowd. Bass stood closely too. As she and Connor faced each other in the middle of camp.

When she spoke again, she heard the bitterness in her own voice, the hurt, the pain. Connor was touching something she did not want him to touch.

Matheson meeting Monroe.

'Wake up Connor, People leave, people die. That's the way it is. I told you, instead of hope, I choose to be realistic.'

Connor watched how his father cursed something under his breath. His dad's eyes were on her for a moment, and Connor realised that although his father had been keeping his distance from her since Vegas, he actually seemed to care about her. He watched it in his dad's eyes, as she boldly bitterly spoke to him

'Everything all right over here.' Rachel asked.

Charlie sighed something away, as her mother used that sugar sweet voice that did not suit the most scary woman she had ever met. She felt her skin react to her voice.

'Everything is fine mom,' she warned her. The last thing she needed were more unasked looks and opinions.

'Kid, you all right?' Miles asked, shocked by her words and a outburst he rarely saw with her.

Charlie sighed in frustration, feeling cornered by so many looks as she straightened her shoulders.

'I'm fine, just give me space.' She said flatly. She was not all right, but she did not need everyone to constantly remind her of that. So she turned, adjusting her knife.

Connor wanted to follow her but he felt the hand of his dad on his elbow.

'Let her be for now, kid.' His eyes were serious, but his tone was surprisingly gentle. Connor watched her walk away, while Bass followed her with his eyes.

Connor waited. Until nightfall and she sat by herself around a fire. Miles' and Rachel's eyes on her. Her words in his head. The bitterness, the hurt. Something he knew so well himself, reflecting in her. He was not giving up like that.

He grabbed some food, two plates. He walked to her slowly as he did not speak. He held up the plate before her.

She looked up at him, looking so tired. She accepted the plate. Hoping he would not take, because she simply couldn't. She was not hungry, she rarely was anymore with guilt there to fill her instead, the image of Jason's last moment haunting her.

Slowly she started to eat, as Connor sat next to her and did the same. Until she could not anymore, too tired.

Connor looked at her, his face serious, his mind filled with worry. He looked at her, and then moved, away from his spot towards her. Moving her a bit, so he could sit behind her. She felt how Connor moved towards and behind her and he placed himself so she was in between his legs.

She felt his legs, strong, long, and the space he provided for her, to fall against, to move in as her back moved into his chest. His arms not far.

She fell asleep, her head on his left shoulder and upper arm, as she felt Connor's jaw on her right. His voice soothing her to sleep.

* * *

**_Two weeks later, just outside Willoughby._**

Connor looked at Tom Neville. His face dripping with cold hate and loathing. He was on a roof with Scanlon and Neville. Waiting for the patriot president to move out of Willoughby, into their way. Doubt had been filling his thoughts. Power. Control. That Republic. Knowing if no one wants to be on his side, he will be on that side alone. It's better than needing anyone, caring for anyone. It's safer.

Too much broken promises. Too much people left. Too much people left him, leaving him, alone. Invisible.

'Boy, what are you doing.' Neville's cold voice, 'keep you head in the game.'

Connor nodded at him, his eyes dark. As more doubt moves in. His dad left him behind, his eyes on him from the wagon were Charlie, Gene and Miles were sitting on. His dad had a piss duscussion with Miles, things blew up and he had left the group with Scanlon and his dad. They had walked into Neville, the man shoving a knife in his throat. They would steal the train, Miles and Charlie stole, and drive the gas in there to DC. That was the plan. Until his dad sided with Miles, again.

They heard shots that shook him out of his toughts. Rushed over. Finding the convoy where the president should have been empty.

His dad. Miles. Charlie. Connor just knew.

They tracked them back down. Finding his dad with Charlie near a well, outside a shed. The wagon empty, empty beause he watched with Scanlon and Neville how they moved Davis inside of there.

Walking up to his dad was difficult.

The walls between loyalty, and love for his dad, and wanting him to be his family and the other wall pressing against him, the wall that is covered by that one promise, the Republic, the solution to never being alone, to being something, defined by the lines of that Republic.

'I am not alone.' Connor told them both, 'You have five minutes.'

'Why?' Bass asked.

'Because I asked them too.' Connor said, his eyes now on Charlie for a while. Charlie can feel they are not alone, Charlie can feel the battle in Connor and how much this is ripping Bass apart.

Bass knew, knew Nevillewould be there, this time not ripping his Republic away like in the tower, but also his son.

'Connor, please, just come with me.' Bass looked at him, with almost desperation in his eyes. Connor can't take that in. It's too much.

'Let's take the president, kill him, put a dent in the east coast. I am your blood. You told you told me to get that Republic back. I left my live behind for you. Another life, after my mom ditched me. Threw my life there away.'

Charlie heard the almost desperate tone, tears in Bass' voice as she sees as vulnerable as she had ever seen him. This is new, and it moves something inside of her.

'Connor, I know it has been hard. I know Emma loved you so much. And if I had known about you, I would have come for you in a heartbeat.'

Charlie heard Miles in her head, but she was not able to stay quiet.

'Connor, you can't do this. You can't choose any Republic out there over him. Not after what he was willing to do for you in Vegas.'

She could feel Bass react, from beside her.

Both of them feel that time is running out, as Connor's face turns into a mixture of angry tears and hurt, so much hurt.

'I will always be on your side Connor. But you have to decide if you want that. I have to deliver that son of a bitch to our meeting point, or else everything will go to hell.' His dad's voice is low and husky, Bass felt the shift uphill. his eyes wide and sad at the same time. Then all hell broke loose, as Charlie and his dad barely got away with Davis.

_He has to decide. _He watched how his dad got on the wagon with Charlie, Davis in the back. He could not move. He was not ready as he watched them leave.

Bass drove away from his kid, dammit. His hand over his face, pushing back tears. He is gratefull Charlie is quiet, although he knew she had seen his damn tears. Her words, her support. She is something else. The miles he had to drive away from his kid are amongst the hardest ones of his life.

**_One week later, Ranger camp, 2 pm._**

Charlie just talked to Miles as she sees him. He walked into camp, unsure, his eyes so lost, dark, fighting before another fight broke loose. His shoulders low. His rhythm an almost dark one. She pushed herself up.

Before Connor realised what happened, her arms were around his neck, as she jumped into him, covering for the height difference, grabbing on to him. Stunned, he placed one of his hands on her back to steady her, while he felt her heartbeat against his chest.

Here she was, one soft sob or release or harsh breath, he was not sure, in his neck. He embrace was , just like her, strong.

He could not do anything, but place one of his hands on her shoulder blade. Confused, that somebody was there, as he was not sure what to expect. Somebody noticed him, and not only noticed him, but welcomed him back.

The ring, he once got in a small town over the border, symbol for his mom, a tangible reminder of her,and it had been there since that day, now on his finger, as it pressed into the cool of her leather jacket as he took in the scent of her hair. She would not let go, for now. So he did the same.

Charlie had surprised herself at her own reaction. But when Connor walked back in, she had realised how much a part of their group he had become. How much he had her back when she needed it, and the rest was too busy with their own crap. But most of all, she knew what it was like to leave her family behind. The burden on her neck and shoulders, as she once left her family after the tower, walking, alone, solitude, loneliness. She knew, when she came back with Bass, that nothing had changed, that family was family, difficult, hard, impossible sometimes, but always there. Always true. She was glad for Bass, who had been a miserable form of himself since he did what had to be done, but costing him his son. It changed the way she viewed him, along with all the other good things he had done for her. Turning him back into the man she once knew, who was welcome in her home, an extension of Miles, someone to look forward to.

* * *

Charlie was about to turn a corner to find her own tent, when she heard him. Bass. Behind her.

'Charlie,' his voice raspy. Low. Just like on that road they once stood on, and he had told her he would come back with her. A world away.

'Hey,' she nodded at him, unsure what to say, to do, to expect.

'Thanks, for what you said to Connor.' He looked at her, with those blue eyes. And for a moment they stood there.

'Yeah,' she nodded, a rare conversation between the two of them.

She nodded a quick nod, preparing to move on.

'Charlie, are you okay?'

He knew it was a fucking stupid question after everything.

'I am, Bass.' She used his name for the first time, and it was all right. She was far from all right, but she was okay, because she was not alone in this.

His eyes lit up in recognition by his name.

'Good.' He nodded, a smile on his face.

'Good?' She raised her eyebrow at him.

And then he was rarely open with her.

'Yeah, I hate to see all that fire you had as a stubborn firing four year old go. 'I know things have been hard for you Charlie. I know how much we all fucked up. ' There it was, the almost sad look in his eyes.

She stood there, nodded at him.

She nodded. He nodded.

'Well, I am off to grab some food. And I kind of went to get there before Miles does.' Charlie said, as Bass was going through the hair on the back of his head.

She smirked.

'Well, we better get going than. Miles can eat.'

And just like that, they walked, together, shoulder by shoulder.

Connor sat down in front of a fire. It were not easy days, hurt, pride, ego, the past. It all had to be overcome, with a new start with his dad. Charlie showed him, to fight for family, even with his dad. If she could that, made a start, letting him in, then Connor realised, he could too. He realised there with Neville, with the mistake of his life he almost made, he wanted too.

He was close to stop the endless stray anymore, settle, find a place, trust this place. Maybe even trust the people.

'Hungry?' She simply said, a plate in front of his nose. She smirked at him, her blue eyes soft.

He nodded, accepted the place. Not much later his dad walked over, sitting on his other side.

'That looks good.' Bass said, his voice low, looking at Charlie who rolled her eyes at him. She sighed but gave him another plate, Bass nodded at her with a short nod of gratitude, and she answered him with her own in recognition.

Both men on her left started to attack, father and son, shoulder to shoulder as she was finally able to start on her own plate.

'And, that looks good.' Miles said with sarcasm as he stole some dried fruit from her plate.

'Hey!' Charlie protested, as Miles sat down on her right, earning a chuckle and grinn from Connor and Bass.

The sun set, as the fire gave more warmth and colour to them. At the end of the hour, her mother and grandpa had joined them. The camp was preparing itself for the night, as murmurs of drinks and talking spread through the maze of the tents.

Connor was not at ease, not expecting this.

He watched how Bass bumped him in the shoulder with his own. Both men exchanging a look. Connor watched pride in his dad's eyes, something gentle that was normally not there. He looked back at Bass, the man that was his father, but became his father, nodding at him.

And then, he felt Charlie's leg touching his knee.

'Good to see you again Connor.' She said, not blinking, a look between a grin and a smile.

'Yeah yeah,' Miles said, already uncomfortable with this mooshy shit.

Maybe the straying was over, maybe he had found a group of people, that he could settle with, even though the war would take them probably far. Maybe a home, a family was not something that was settled, in one place. Maybe it were a group of people, around a fire, with food, a drink. That would sit with you, even if you had darkness in you, like all of them, that saw you, but still accepted you, welcomed you back.

And her, Charlie. Friend, family. Maybe more. He did not know. But for now, her acceptance, her stubbornness, her capability of second changes, grounded him, made him want to stay, look in her eyes and share her wide grin, as she looked at him.

Miles gave him a drink, the bottle in his hand before he gave the bottle to Charlie. Her hands touching his for a moment, fingers meeting his fingers.

'To family, Connor.' She nodded.

'To family.' He nodded back.

That night he fell asleep in his sleeping bag, Miles and his dad softly talking . Charlie asleep next to him, as her face was relaxed and she was curled up close to him as the night moved on. He felt the small picture in the inside of his pocket. Emma. His mom.

His thoughts went to her, and then to the man that could tell him more about her, who she was, who they had been.

Before he got up, he readjusted the blanket that was about to glide of Charlie, making sure she was warm. She slept through.

He sat down next to his dad. Neither of the two said that much as Connor shared a bottle at the fire.

Bass looked at his kid. They day he found him and they walked back to Willoughy felt so long ago. After today, he was able to trust that maybe, Connor would stay, would find his place. He would never let his kid go. His son, his blood. His family.

The night moved on, the bottle between them, warm booze in their throats as they watched the flames. Father. Son.

When Connor was ready to get some sleep, as his father sat close to him, he moved slowly next to Charlie again, next to her. Before he fell asleep, he moved a lock of hair away from her temple, and he pressed a warm soft kiss on the skin there. She moved slowly in her sleep, opening her eyes for a moment, her hand on his cheek. He kissed her, as her warm lips allowed him, thanking her, for not going easy on him, for not being afraid to tell him the truth and for not giving up, on ayone, for not walking away, for everything.

The end

* * *

_I wanted to thank the nice person who asked about this story, for taking the time to get in touch with me, and leaving messages about who you felt about the story. Thank you very much. I hope you enjoyed it! It was my pleasure writing! Love from Love_


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